


1. I Lost a Friend.

by dawnoftime



Series: Blood (and) Harmony [1]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Holly Horsely is mentioned in a way, M/M, The scar origin, cat!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:54:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22792816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnoftime/pseuds/dawnoftime
Summary: In which they seem familiar, but aren't truly ready yet to confront the feeling.
Relationships: Banjo McClintock & C.C. Tinsley, Ricky Goldsworth & C.C. Tinsley, Ricky Goldsworth/C. C. Tinsley
Series: Blood (and) Harmony [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1638652
Kudos: 25





	1. I Lost a Friend.

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to make this a series!! Woo! Anyway, I hope you enjoy!  
> Inspired by I Lost a Friend by FINNEAS.

**_I lost a friend_ **

**_Like keys in a sofa_ **

**_Like a wallet in the backseat_ **

**_Like ice in the summer heat_ **

  
  


“Promise me you’ll come back, Ricardo.”   
  
Was one of the last things Ricky Goldsworth heard from his mother. He nodded and smiled, he was young and wanting new experiences.    
  
He  _ wanted  _ those things, but now as he approached L.A. with new enemies on his tail more murders on his hands.   
  
He barely regretted anything, honestly. He would occasionally call his mother to let him know that he was still fine and that he’ll come visit soon enough.    
She assured him that he can do so anytime, she also informed him that one of their neighbours’ kids moved out to study law and ‘ _ stuff alike _ ’. He didn’t mind that, he barely remembered the neighbours’ kids: there were two brothers, the younger looked very slender while the older looked more intimidating. He played basketball with the older, the younger always somewhere reading books.    
He also remembered that the older one was older than him by 2 years, while the younger one was younger than him by 4 months, very weird thing to remember (very  _ random _ , his brain supplied). 

  
What he remembers quite vividly is one of their conversations:   
  
“Oh! Rick! Hi, haven’t seen you in a while. Have you seen my brother?” It was the older one, he didn’t bother to remember their names. He just went and called them dude, man or something along those lines.   
  
“No, not really. Did something happen?”   
  
“He was supposed to be here 2 hours ago, I’m getting worried.”   
  
He shrugged, “I can help you look for him?” Ricky tried to be helpful.   
  
“... Yeah, that’d be good. Thanks, man.”   
  
He almost forgot how  _ vulnerable and scared _ they found the younger one, he was in an alleyway, beat up. They stole his backpack on the way to school, being a stubborn ‘fucker’ that he was, he talked back to his opponents (as you do). Ricky was 14 at the time, the other kid’s birthday coming up soon enough.

The older one moved out first, Ricky didn’t know what college that guy headed off to, but he kind of hoped he met him someday again.   
As for the younger one, his mother informed him that right on his 18th birthday, he moved out to the university of law and  _ ‘stuff alike’  _ (Ricky still thinks it’s funny to say it that way).

Either way, he thought he should visit his mum soon enough and those neighbours too.

  
  


**_I lost a friend_ **

**_Like sleep on a red-eye_ **

**_Like money on a bad bet_ **

**_Like time worrying about every bad thing that hasn't happened yet_ **

  
  


Charles C. Tinsley had a brother that was older than him, and he knew for a fact that his brother under those intentions of studying criminology would go rouge if he were a cop.   
  
So to counter the bad influence that his brother may create in the force, he was going to be the yang in it. Even if it cost him.   
  
At 18 he decided that he should go to law school to become a police officer and maybe work his way up.   
The maybe was more of a plea that he lead on to believe.   
  
Tinsley was quite anxious about going to live alone, but he did that anyway.   
He would call his mother every weekend, clear up recipes and tell her how he was doing. He was paired up with some other guy that had gained the nickname ‘Mayor’ for speaking always eloquently and correctly, like a mayor would. He liked the guy, he was nice enough.

  
  


**_I know I'll be alright_ **

**_But I'm not tonight_ **

**_I'll be lying awake counting all the mistakes I've made_ **

  
  


Tinsley was on his bed, his roommate was away for the time (he had a ‘gathering’ with the other student council. The student council wasn’t even needed, but it’s something that everyone decided to have, since they were most of the professor’s favourites and they were listened to).   
  
He reminisced on his younger years, counting all the things he has done wrong. On how he could have not been so scrawny if he at least played basketball with his brother and that other kid.  _ I wonder what the other kid is doing _ .   
  
Ricky was doing fine, by the way. He recently got a deal to kill a known man that was abusing his wife and kid, which was bad.   
Ricky believed he was an anti-hero. The police believed he was a criminal.   
  
Things were changing, if the police didn’t do anything, he will have to. Simple as that.

  
  


**_Replaying fights_ **

**_I know I'll be alright_ **

**_But I'm not tonight_ **

  
  


He continued to kill, and that was fine. No one knew who he was.   
  
That was fine.   
  
Yup.   
  
It was until it wasn’t, because some new guy got into the police force that appeared to be smarter and wittier than others. He heard about him, he never heard the name being spoken though.   
  
He seemed dangerous, because all that was said was: ‘he’s maybe too smart, he is very tall, he appears to know his surroundings well. Every move he makes is extremely calculated.’ And that would be true, to some degree.   
  
You see, Tinsley was by no means the smartest, but he tried to appear so. He knew his surroundings well because, the ever sense of being followed always was carried on his shoulders since  _ the incident _ , every move was calculated because he had a lot of limb and he was scared to lose one of them.

And  _ the incident  _ was literally the worst thing that happened to him, he thinks. He wasn’t stabbed to say, but he did get a nasty scar on his back and hand. He  _ was  _ kicked and punched though, he had one broken rib then. It was weird, he felt it there, when usually he didn’t. He felt so aware of his breathing, it hurt, he forgot to breathe and the only voices he heard was that of his brother and the kid next door:   
  
“Oi! I found him, Charlie! You’re here, ok, stay with us, buddy. Ricky! Call an ambulance!”   
  
“Alright, doin’ it!”

  
**_I lost a friend_ **

**_I lost a friend_ **

**_I lost my mind_ **

**_And nobody believes me_ **

  
  


Ricky sometimes wonders what the other kid next door is doing, studying law and stuff alike. Did he get a job? He still wonders.   
  
Could I consider him a friend? Is still a question he asks himself. 

  
Anyway, he tried to avoid thinking about that kid that read too many books and a very weird nose and- Oh  _ how would he look like now? _ He didn’t see him in his last 2 years with his mother, it was kind of sad.   
  
To Tinsley it wasn’t, he kind of thought the kid next door was crazy. He heard stories in high school about him, that  _ Ricky  _ fought a lot (they never said that those people he fought were bullies), he got suspended, that he got to have one of the worst grades- He had him in english and he barely saw him in class.    
  
And while Tinsley was in english class, Ricky was maybe ‘punishing’ one of the bullies: laughing at their pain, laughing  _ laughing  _ **_laughing_ ** at their pleas of mercy.

Ricky might have lost himself a little while doing so, but only the bullies were there to judge him.

  
  
  


**_Say, "I know that he don't need me,_ **

**_'Cause he made a little too much money to be twenty and sad."_ **

**_And I'll be fine without them_ **

**_But all I do is write about 'em_ **

  
  


Tinsley was being promoted to lead murder and homicide detective, and he was  _ euphoric _ . Until he wasn’t.   
  
There was this murderer that was on the loose around their area, and they were damn good at doing their shit. They left no evidence behind, just the body alone. It was creepy, scary, spooky and exciting. They trusted him enough to have this one.   
  
They  _ trusted _ him. His brother  _ trusted  _ him. The world did so too,   
  
_ but the sad fact is _ , he didn’t think he could solve this.   
  
He was nearing his mid twenties, and yet, there he was. Still feeling incomplete after getting the job of his dreams, some ungrateful rascal he is.

What he decided to do was to write a letter to his mother, he could call her but letters felt more intimate in a way, he also joined a polaroid picture of him and his brother on a nearby beach, because he promised to send pictures of their first trip to the beach.

  
  


**_How the hell did I lose a friend I never had?_ **

**_Never had_ **

  
  


* * *

**_I'm on the mend_ **

**_Like I'm wearing a neck brace_ **

**_Like I'm sleeping in my own place_ **

**_Like I'm pulling all the stitches out of my own face_ **

  
  


Tinsley remembers getting his hand (a bit on his wrist too, but it was a small one) and back stitched up, he remembers his brother staying all the time with him, because ‘Dad is away and Mum will take a while to arrive’. It was normal, at least.   
  
He had to stay in the hospital for the broken rib though, and even if Banjo couldn’t stay all night, the nurse let him. The older one stayed in the seat next to his brother, holding his hand. It felt familiar, like when  _ Charlie  _ was 5 and he was 7, the younger had a nightmare and he had to comfort him.   
  
It was familiar.   
  
He ran his thumb over the stitches on the hand, and stayed quiet. He’d thank Ricky later.    
  
He just had to wait for Mum first.

  
  


**_I'm on the mend_ **

**_Like I'm icing a new sprain_ **

**_Like I'm walking on a new cane_ **

**_Like it's been a couple days since I slipped and said something sorta like your name_ **

  
  


Ricky noticed the new detective working hard soon enough, and he felt awkwardly familiar. Maybe too familiar.   
  
Those glasses framed his eyes well enough, which seemed familiar. That  _ nose  _ investigating the scene, analyzing it, seemed familiar. And those hands, the way the maneuvered themselves around the body- Oh.    
  
_ Oh. _

It was the kid next door.  _ Charlie  _ if he remembered. That meant that his brother had to work in the force too.   
  
This couldn’t get any better.

  
  


**_I know I'll be alright_ **

**_But I'm not tonight_ **

**_I'll be lying awake counting all the mistakes I've made_ **

  
  


Tinsley was analyzing the scene, Dr. Fear was close behind trying to capture any footage. “You know, uhm. You shouldn’t post the case yet, we’d like to have a lead first. We don’t want unnecessary, er, roocus?” He said the last bit as if he were uncertain.   
  
Dr. Fear plausibly felt it, he just smiled and put a hand on the detective’s shoulder. “Will do, Tinsley.” He left the scene.   
  
Tinsley did not.   
Neither did the person standing awfully to a side, admiring the detective. Tinsley noticed this, but tried to pay it no mind.  _ It’s fine, this is fine  _ was the mantra he kept repeating in his own head as he looked around to see if he could find any other clues.   
  
The guy’s name was Brandon, he didn’t bother in remembering the last name.   
He started feeling uneasy, the man off to the side still was there. He braced himself:   
  
“Uh, may I help you?”   
  
  


**_Replaying fights_ **

**_I know I'll be alright_ **

**_But I'm not tonight_ **

  
  


“No. You may not.” He said, starting to walk away altogether.   
  
_ The fuck. _

Either way, Tinsley continued to work, but the stranger was still in his mind. It was weird, he thought he’d seen that face somewhere.   
  
That night Charles C. Tinsley didn’t ponder about his life choices.   
  
That same night Ricardo Goldsworth  _ did indeed  _ ponder about his life choices: from what brought him here, what he did to that detective that apparently is that bookworm kid next door. The one that spoke loudly and wasn’t scared to voice his opinions (‘Well, of course you’d have Spanish DNA, mexicans are a mix of the spaniards and natives living there’ or ‘Pirates are  _ way  _ better than ninjas. Have you seen how they got paid? Haven’t seen a Ninja’s money, pal’) but was too scared to throw a punch back.

Needless to say, Ricardo Goldsworth didn’t have a good night’s sleep. Or any sleep at all for that matter.

  
  


**_I'm on the mend_ **

**_But I lost a friend_ **

**_I lost my mind_ **

**_And nobody believes me_ **

  
  


The detective knew that the person felt familiar, but he didn’t know in what sense.   
  
The next day he went into his office as always, and he saw a letter addressed to him:

> ‘Hello stranger! You appear to be new here.
> 
> Please be careful around sharp objects and dead bodies,
> 
> they have many virus!’

  
  
This was odd, to say the least, but he smiled a little nonetheless. Kind of creepy, but he didn’t bother.   
  
Ricky did though, because he was watching him from the window. The criminal remembered on how they used to pass notes to each other when they still lived in the same block. Tinsley barely ever replied, but when he did it was always some excuse on how he forgot to reply in such a long time, and that he finished a new book on crime.   
  
He worried for the taller one, because it was a familiar feeling. Caring about that son of a gun since they hang around. It was funny, that he tried to maybe replicate their childhood memories, but he wanted to nonetheless.   
  
Ricky walked away to do his new assignment, trying to think for a clue that he could leave to fuck around with the new asset to the team.

  
  


**_Say, "I know that he don't need me,_ **

**_'Cause he made a little too much money to be twenty and sad."_ **

  
  


That didn’t go well enough, Ricky thought.   
  


He left the first clue ever, to the talk of the town detective. It was directed at him!

>   
>    
>  _ ‘Watch your back, _
> 
> _ for that is where the shadow lays. _ _   
>  _ _ Watch your front, _
> 
> _ for that is where your feet come into place. _
> 
> _ Watch yourself, _
> 
> _ because you never know if these are your last days.’ _

  
  
Listen, it might have been an empty threat. The detective looked at it multiple times, gave it into the forensics and acted like that never was there.   
When Ricky followed him at a safe distance, he got to know the detective’s living space location. It was on the second floor though, he’d have to climb a little (maybe get into shape if he’s going to be visiting the tall man soon enough).

He climbed, and climbed and almost fell. He finally got to the window he assumed was Tinsley’s as it had dim lighting and- Oh _shit_ , the detective was slumped over his desk, slightly shaking.  
  
 _Did he do that?_ _Did he make the detective cry?_ That was never the intention, truly. He took a quick look around the room to notice if there is anything out of the ordinary.  
He was propped on his left forearm, it being visible to Ricky to a certain degree. It was awfully clean, a few scratches that appeared to have healed nicely (he assumed it was from some cat, specifically one of his co-workers. Maybe that short woman’s?)

  
  


**_And I'll be fine without them_ **

**_But all I do is write about 'em_ **

**_How the hell did I lose a friend I never had?_ **

  
  


He decided to not try anything that might damage the detective, however, he decided that he could break into the block to see him face to face.   
  
He entered through someone’s unlived apartment (he was lucky, he almost decided to go into this old woman’s apartment), he entered the main hallways and he calculated where Tinsley’s apartment would be.    
  
And he rang the doorbell.   
  
“Uh, just a seco- Shit! COming-!” He heard shuffling towards the door and suddenly it was open, “Sorry, how may I help… you?...” It felt familiar, ringing the doorbell and waiting for the kid to open it so they could hang out (or with his brother).   
  
“Oh, I think I rang the wrong door. Sorry.” Ricky tried to play it off, Tinsley nodded, wiping at his eyes. He started to close the door but Ricky spoke- “Actually! Are you, by any chance, Charles Caleb Tinsley?”    
  
The detective looked thoughtful for a second, Ricky tried to focus on his face and, it did indeed seem that there were tear trails down his cheek that appeared to be dried already (or wiped away). “Uhm, yeah- Yeah. I’m Charles, why, are you looking for a case to be solved?”    
He didn’t appear to realise who the criminal before him was.

“Yeah, well- I think I’ll have one.” Ricky smiled gently, he then waved a goodbye and started walking away.   
  
“What?” Tinsley murmured under his nose.

  
  


**_I'd apologize_ **

**_If I thought it might_ **

**_Make a difference_ **

**_Or make you listen_ **

  
  


Ricky was looking for lawyers soon after the incident, just in case something slipped.   
But he was good, he was never found before this.  _ Before  _ this, because Tinsley was getting enough suspects, he was gathering evidence, he was gathering more and more information.   
He wasn’t going to be found out by this detective, though. He wasn’t going to apologize for his crimes, he didn’t regret a thing.   
  
What he did regret was seeing Charles Caleb Tinsley overwork himself in that office.   
  
He started to leave more poems and haikus made specifically to taunt  _ and  _ haunt the detective a little.   
  


Soon enough, he went to visit the Police station. At the reception, he was greeted with the sight of the slender detective ( _ when did he decide to use adjectives) _ apparently waiting for some reports on the latest victim (it was a woman that had cheated on her husband, who also was somehow abusive up to a point with him). 

“Hello,” He said lowly, “I was given a letter? To give to one, Charles C. Tinsley?” Tinsley turned at the mention of his name:   
  
“Yes, that’s me- Oh, it’s you-” He smiled a bit,    
“Yeah, hello.” He smiled back.   
  
They stared at each other for a while, until the lady gave Tinsley the report. “Well, the letter?”   
“Ah, right. Here.” Ricky gave him the paper in his hand: “Hope you solve this, detective.”   
  
Tinsley nodded. “I’ll try.”

  
  


**_I'd apologize_ **

**_If it was black and white_ **

**_But life is different_ **

**_Just try to listen_ **

  
  


Tinsley decided to read the letter later that evening.   
  
As he finally arrived home to his office, he decided to open it:   


>   
>  ‘ _ Watch your back, _
> 
> _ for that is where the shadow lays. _ _   
>  _ _ Watch your front, _
> 
> _ for that is where your feet come into place. _
> 
> _ Watch yourself, _
> 
> _ because you never know if these are your last days. _ _   
>  _ _   
>  _ _ And when your finals day are to come, _
> 
> _ do not start living just for fun. _ _   
>  _ _ For that is your biggest mistake, _
> 
> _ holding onto your own ache. _
> 
> _   
>  _ _ For your body I’ll hold dear, _
> 
> _ and will always keep you near. _ _   
>  _ _ You’ll open up your wings and fly, _
> 
> _ for that will not be your final goodbye, _
> 
> _ but a simple welcome, _
> 
> _ to the happy place, you called home.’ _

  
  


**_To me now_ **

  
  


That night Ricardo Goldsworth wondered about his choices and the detective. He might have went overboard, but it is too late now.  _ Oh well. _   
  
That same night Charles Caleb Tinsley  _ did indeed  _ ponder about his life choices: from what brought him there, to that  _ specific  _ moment, to the letter on his desk and how it was given by that  _ familiar _ stranger. Was the stranger the killer? Or maybe an accomplice? He’d have to chase them down, but did he really want to?   
He really hoped not.   
  
Or maybe he did a little, just to finally solve that case.    
  
He definitely was a bit guilty after listening to his own thoughts.

  
  


**_I know I'll be alright_ **

**_But I'm not tonight_ **

  
  


Tinsley didn’t sleep in a few nights, which was normal when he got really into a case.   
  
What wasn’t normal was that Ricky observed him while he was awake at night, he worried about him, ok? Let him have a criminal heart.

Somewhere in the night, the detective fell asleep in his chair, his glasses falling off his nose. The criminal was about to take a risk, just to take those glasses off.   
  
He quietly opened the window ( _ Who the fuck doesn’t lock their windows? _ ) and went as close to the sleeping man as silently as possible. He crouched and slowly took the glasses off, leaving them on his desk. He quickly scribbled a small note that would be in the tones of the other ones and just stared at Tinsley for a few more seconds. “Oh, you’re such an uncaring bastard. Why did you have to get in the way?”   
  
He gently lifted the hand that he knew was scarred and looked at it: he noticed that the scar also extended to his wrist. Well, it didn’t, but it did follow that line that the one on the hand was.   
A memory of something jarring, but he knew Tinsley was fine.    
  
Maybe not totally, but he believed that the detective would always pull through.

  
  


**_I lost a friend_ **

**_I lost a friend_ **

**_I lost my mind_ **

**_And nobody believes me_ **

  
  


As Charles woke up, he noticed that he could not see. And before falling asleep he could.    
  
He quickly turned to his desk and noticed his glasses seating neatly folded, next to a note.   
  
_ Oh no. _   
  
He took his glasses and looked around, there was nothing else out of the ordinary: except the open window that wasn’t open before.   
  
_ Oh fuck, the Killer knows his location and he’s planning to kill him- _

> _ ‘Remember that you are yours first, _
> 
> _ and you are your outburst. _
> 
> _ You are yours first, _
> 
> _ and so very unrehearsed. _ _   
>  _ _ You are yours first, _
> 
> _ and sometimes so very unversed. _
> 
> _ You are yours first, _
> 
> _ and also so damn cursed. _ _   
>  _ _ You are yours first, _
> 
> _ and then everyone else's. _ _   
>  _ _   
>  _ _ You are yours first, _
> 
> _ remember that from your best to your worst.’ _

That was very anticlimactic to this whole situation. He kept rereading the small note ( _ how did they fit that there? _ ) and just slowly sighed. He did like the message,  _ yours first  _ was a nice thing to remember.   
  
He fumbled for a new piece of paper and scribbled down something and sticked it to some surface that he would look at to remember.   
  
He really wanted to remember.   
  
  


**_Say, "I know that he don't need me,_ **

**_'Cause he made a little too much money to be twenty and sad."_ **

  
  


Ricky watched Tinsley scrutinize the living (or best said  _ unliving _ ) shit out of his next murder. He made it specifically gentle, just a slit to the throat, done so with a knife and then stuck a violin chord in the wound. 

Listen, he really wanted to get creative.   
  
The detective wrote multiple names for possible suspects. He didn’t see his own, which was good. The murder was in an alleyway and the victim had a violin in their possession, that was an extremely creative way to taunt the force. ‘Playing them like fiddles’  _ haha,  _ **_fuck them_ ** .   
  
He finally left, what he didn’t notice though, is that Tinsley had looked at his direction as he went away. He didn’t notice how Tinsley’s face shifted into a soft frown and started analyzing him better in his mind.   
  
He didn’t notice.

  
  


**_And I'll be fine without them_ **

**_But all I do is write about 'em_ **

  
  


The criminal wrote one more note, and left it in the reception. Well, he ordered someone to do it for him.    
He kept writing to Tinsley, he should reveal a bit of his personality in these notes soon enough (or something alike).   
  


> _ ‘All day, _
> 
> all night:   
>  _ I think about you. _ _   
>  _ _ And when I do, _
> 
> _ you should know it’s true. _ _   
>  _ _ You’re awfully familiar, _
> 
> _ I hope you know: _ _   
>  _ _ you are so very peculiar. _ _   
>  _ _   
>  _ _ Keep up working, detective!’ _   
>    
> 

**_How the hell did I lose a friend I never had?_ **

  
  


Tinsley came back to the station and was given the note upon his arrival, as he finally got to his spot he opened it and read it.

Wait,  _ what?  _ Keep up working? Why was he talking to him like they knew each other since  _ forever? _   
  
_ Were they friends?  _ Tinsley pondered for a while about that.  _ Did he ever had a friend, he never knew he had? _   
  
  


**_Never had._ **

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed, don't forget to leave kudos and comments! I really appreciate those!


End file.
